Replaced but Adored

[Stop texting me. Your precious high-society fiance has been replaced. I'm just a farm girl rolling in the mud now.]

I texted Julian. After the real heiress came home, I moved back to the country.

My ex-fianc, Julian, texted me from the UK.

[It's snowing in London. I'm staring at the snow outside my window, and you're all I can think about. I miss you so much I'm going crazy. What are you doing?]

Me:

[Feeding the chickens.]

Julian:

[Will you bring the chickens to see me before Christmas?]

I turned him down.

[No. My grandma would literally kill me.]

[Besides, I'm not your fiance anymore.]

Chapter 1

When Julian texted me, I was out in the yard feeding the chickens.

[It's snowing in London. I'm staring at the snow outside my window, and you're all I can think about. I miss you so much I'm going crazy.]

[What are you doing?]

I tossed a handful of corn onto the dirt, freed up one hand, and typed back.

[Feeding the chickens.]

He was never one to kill a vibe.

[The UK just switched back to winter time.]

[Will you bring the chickens to see me before Christmas?]

I glanced at the free-range hens pecking around my boots, then looked up at my grandma shoveling chicken shit nearby. I gave him the bad news.

[No. My grandma would literally kill me.]

[And stop texting me. Your precious high-society fiance has been replaced. I'm just a farm girl rolling in the mud now.]

Julian's typing bubble popped up for a few solid minutes. Then, an audio call came through.

Cell reception out here was garbage. Static crackled under his voice. "What do you mean, replaced?"

Before I could get a word in, he kept going. "Is it thundering over there? I know how much you hate thunderstorms."

"No thunder. A tractor just drove by," I enunciated every single word, making sure he heard me loud and clear.

"I'm not the real daughter of the Pei family. I'm out in the country feeding chickens now. Our families arranged a marriage for the Pei heiress, so you need to switch to the right girl."

Dead silence on his end.

Before he could say another word, I hit the red button and blocked his number.

This engagement was just a corporate merger disguised as a romance. Now that we were in completely different tax brackets, there was zero chance for us. Better to rip the Band-Aid off now. I pressed my cold palms against my face.

Just as the sting hit my eyes and my throat tightened, reality tapped me on the shoulder. I still had to go gather eggs. The breakdown would have to wait.

When I walked out of the Pei family's mansion, I left with nothing. My foster parents kept insisting I take my designer clothes and jewelry, but I politely turned down every single piece.

Their biological daughter, Harlow, stood right there. She grew up in the countrybubbly, bright, and completely unbothered.

She blinked her clear eyes at me and spoke up, her voice crisp. "The hospital mix-up was just an accident. It's not your fault. You can stay."

She stepped forward, a little clumsy, and gripped my hands tight. There wasn't a trace of the calculated, fake politeness you'd see in those prep-school girls. Just pure, unfiltered country sincerity.

I looked at her. "But I lived your comfortable life for all these years. The least I can do is go back and live the life you had to live."

I almost bit my tongue on that twisted sentence.

She scratched her head. "Alright, then."

Before I left, the only thing I took was Harlow's contact info. She promised to send me a PDF on postpartum care for sows. If I had any questions about raising pigs or feeding chickens, she had my back.

Fueled by a heavy dose of reckless courage and Harlow's rural survival tips, I hopped on a Greyhound bus heading back to the sticks. My new reality: hiking up the mountain to cut pig grass and coming down to feed the flock.

Back in the day, Julian used to tell me, "When the UK shifts to winter time, the time difference between us becomes eight hours. That gives us one extra hour to be in love."

Half a day in the village, and I was already enlightened. To hell with all that romance crap. I only cared about when my hens were going to lay eggs.

I spun around and marched toward the coop. A hen was currently sitting right on top of the eggs, and I had absolutely no idea how to get them out without losing a finger.

Chapter 2

After overthinking it for a solid minute, I pulled up my messages and texted Harlow.

[The hen is sitting on the eggs. How do I get them out?]

She shot back an audio message, her tone bouncy and loud.

[Girl, you gotta distract 'em with corn first! It's the famous law of Chicken-nomics~]

I grabbed a handful of dried corn and flattened my palm for the hen to peck. Taking advantage of the distraction, I reached in, fumbled around the straw, and pulled out a warm egg. I set it down carefully, washed the dirt off my hands, and typed back.

[Thanks, Harlow.]

"Aw, shucks, no need to be polite with me"

The audio cut off halfway. In the background, I caught Jacqueline's sharp voice. "Harlow, can you please speak properly?"

A small laugh escaped me. Then a twinge of guilt hit. I made a mental note to light a virtual candle later to earn back my karma points.

That night, the family gathered around a worn wooden table for dinner. I sat stiffly, only daring to poke at the greens directly in front of me.

Grandma tugged at her faded apron, her thick country accent spilling out. "What's wrong, Blair? Food not sitting right with you? I'll go butcher a chicken tomorrow."

I shook my head quickly. "No, I'm fine."

She nodded, looking a little out of her depth. "That's good. Just holler if you need anything."

I murmured an agreement. It really wasn't bad here. It was just going to take some getting used to.

Later that night, Harlow FaceTimed me. She was sprawled across her bed, propping her chin in her hands. "Settling in okay, sister?"

"I'll get used to it eventually."

She sighed dramatically. "When am I ever gonna learn how to give those high-EQ polite answers like you?"

A smile tugged at my lips. "You're smart. You'll pick it up in no time."

"You always know exactly what to say. We should go cut pig grass together sometime."

I nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

Right in the middle of talking about country life, Harlow slammed the brakes and switched topics. "Why'd you block my brother-in-law?"

"Brother-in-law?" I paused, my brain stalling. "Who?"

"Julian, duh."

So much for my high EQ. I had zero idea how to respond to that. Harlow had just returned to the family; she clearly didn't have the full picture yet.

"Why are we bringing him up?"

"He told me to pass on a message," she said. "Ugh, my English pronunciation is trash. Hold on, I'll just send you a picture."

A screenshot popped up on my screen. It was a quote from The Lord of the Rings.

[I would rather share one lifetime with you than face all the ages of this world alone.]

"So, you got anything to say to that?" she asked.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. There was no way to unpack all of that right now. "I'm having sweet potato porridge for breakfast tomorrow, and I'm definitely adding a side of pickles."

Harlow's eyes crinkled into crescents as she laughed. "You really know how to eat."

The next morning, a rooster crowed at the crack of dawn. I dragged myself out of bed, downed a steaming bowl of sweet potato porridge, and topped it off with the pickles, just like I promised. Then, I strapped a woven basket to my back and headed up the mountain to cut pig grass.

Grandma had tried to stop me. "You just stay home and rest. No need to do chores."

I stood my ground. "Whatever Harlow had to do, I'm doing it too."

She had rubbed the back of her head, completely baffled by my logic.

Armed with my basket and a sickle, I followed the trail Harlow had mapped out for me. The woods up here were dense. Thick brush swallowed the path, and there wasn't a single soul in sight. The only sound was the wind rustling through the heavy canopy.

After half an hour of hacking away at weeds with my head down, the isolation started creeping in. I was used to a life where I never went anywhere without a chauffeur and a detail of bodyguards trailing behind me. Now, completely alone in these desolate woods, every snapped twig and rustling bush felt like a jump scare in a horror movie. I gripped the woven strap of the basket until my knuckles turned white.

The more I thought about it, the more the panic clawed at my throat. I bolted down the mountain, the basket of grass bouncing violently against my back.

I was running so fast my boots caught on a root, sending me crashing hard into the dirt.

Chapter 3

When I got back to the house, I was a complete mess. My hair was tangled and full of dead leaves. Thinking about how Harlow had to endure this kind of life made a sharp knot form in my stomach.

The second my phone caught a bar of signal, I texted her.

[I'm sorry.]

Harlow:

[?]

[Girl, what happened?]

My throat felt tight.

[I had no idea you had it so rough]

Harlow:

[Rough? What are you talking about? What did you even do today?]

Me:

[Cutting pig grass.]

Harlow:

[Oh, honey, please. I was literally born to wield that sickle! Hand it over.]

A laugh punched out of my chest. The heavy weight pressing down on my shoulders instantly lifted.

I really thought I'd be drowning in missing Julian. But honestly? Scooping chicken feed leaves zero room for pining.

I used to think I was fragile. When the DNA results dropped, I felt like my entire world had been ripped out from under me. But the grueling farm chores acted like a buffer. Staying constantly in motion meant I could temporarily shove everything to the back of my mind.

For over a month, Harlow and I swapped agricultural survival tips. Meanwhile, Julian tried every backdoor channel to get messages to me. I was a twisted mess of contradictionswallowing in my own misery at night, but throwing up an impenetrable brick wall the second he tried to reach out.

By mid-December, Julian's Christmas break was coming up. Normally, I'd be booking a first-class flight to London to spend the holidays with him. Now, I was legitimately worried he'd mistake one of my prized hens for a Christmas turkey.

Kidding. The reality was our social classes had splintered. We were over.

The first snow hit the village. I recorded a quick video and fired it off to Harlow. She practically vibrated with excitement and said she was coming back for a visit. She missed her roots.

During our chat, she casually dropped a bomb. "Julian flew back to the States."

My fingers froze over the screen. "Is he